


Anything You Can Do.

by Kitty_Kinneas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Bottom Gabriel, Competition, Foursome, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_Kinneas/pseuds/Kitty_Kinneas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's wrong with a little healthy competition between brothers? That's what Gabriel thinks, anyway, and how better to get Dean and Castiel to actually do something about their painfully obvious attraction to one another?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Can Do.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember when I wrote this. Sometime after Castiel was ejected from Heaven the first time, I think... Definitely after Gabriel was killed by Lucifer. A while ago anyway, so I'm not sure what canon was canon then, and it's definitely up to date with the current season (because neither am I!). Anyway, I called it a foursome in the tags, but I don't know if it really counts as that, though all four of them are there. Had a ball writing it, though, and I hope you enjoy it too!

Castiel had found himself sleeping more often, these days. He thought it probably had something to do with habit. Dean and Sam slept, and so he did as well, because he could not go back to Heaven, and he didn't want to go to Hell, and there was no where on Earth where he felt he could go.

 

So it was with the Winchesters he stayed.

 

Dean was restless, muttering in his sleep, and Castiel knew it was because Sam had gotten strangely secretive again. He was disappearing with no real explanations. And he had made Castiel promise not to follow him.

 

Castiel didn't have much left. Honour was it, and since he had promised, he stuck to it, despite Dean's insistence that he should do it anyway. He watched the elder Winchester with that strange itching inside that was getting to be commonplace, and pondered on it, but his eyes began to slowly fall closed.

 

He liked it when they stayed at Bobby's. Dean and Sam could get away from each other and they could relax more, for as much as they loved one another, it was an abrasive relationship at times, and it could get too much – for them and for Castiel.

 

The house was silent. Everyone was sleeping – even Castiel, after a fashion.

 

But he was instantly alert at a soft sound from the kitchen. It was barely a sound, a faint scrape of table or chair leg, but only someone in there could cause it. His head dipped a little, brows heavy over intense eyes.

 

There was the softest of laughs, smooth and easy – Sam, he knew. Especially when he reached out inside, and felt the edges of the man's Soul.

 

But there was something else. Someone, maybe, but it was ineffable. He couldn't feel it, or get a hold of it. Like it kept moving. Like it was Hidden. Few could Hide from an Angel.

 

Castiel stood and slid out of the bedroom, careful not to disturb Dean. He closed the door gently, and heard the buzz of voices. He would assume Bobby was up with Sam, if he didn't know how Bobby felt as well.

 

Step by careful step, he approached the kitchen, and peered around the doorframe.

 

What he saw made even his massive mind grind to a halt.

 

Sam was stood at the table, thighs pressed against its edge, between another pair of jean-clad thighs. There were hands in his hair, and his big frame was bent to accommodate the size of the person sitting on the table.

 

Only it wasn't a person.

 

Castiel could sense his wings, this close, the overwhelming power of him, the Hiding he had done negated by proximity.

 

So many questions flickered through his mind.

 

_How was he there? Wasn't he dead? Where had he come from? Why was he Hiding (again)? How was he_ alive _? Why didn't I know?_

 

But foremost among them was;

 

_Why is he kissing Samuel Winchester?_

 

He was frozen at the door, staring as Sam bent further and the  _Archangel_ he held lay back.

 

“Not here, Gabe,” he parroted, clearly teasing Sam. “Someone might hear, Gabe.”

 

“Shut up, Gabe,” Sam mocked back. “You told me they wouldn't.”

 

“They won't,” said Gabriel, sure of his power.

 

_How could he be sure of his power when it had bled from him on the point on his own blade?!_

 

As Castiel watched, pinned in place by shock and confusion, Sam rolled his hips lazily and Gabriel arched slowly, baring his throat to the younger Winchester's mouth.

 

“Show me your wings,” Sam said.

 

“All of them? We won't fit in the kitchen,” Gabriel said around a laugh.

 

“The big ones.”

 

“Alright, alright. Child,” the Archangel said indulgently.

 

And there they were, spilling solidly across and off the edges of the table, displacing a mug so that it fell and shattered.

 

Sam nuzzled in the hollow of Gabriel's throat, one hand smoothing along white, white feathers.

 

The Archangel slid his hands down Sam's long back and fisted them in the lower half of his shirt, dragging it up insistently until Sam lifted his arms and let him pull it off completely.

 

Castiel felt a strange dryness in his mouth and knew he should walk away.

 

Sam's hands found the bottom of Gabriel's shirt, and that was gone in a moment as well, tossed away to land in the sink. Sam's mouth came to Gabriel's chest and the Archangel groaned, his fingers sliding into Sam's shaggy hair.

 

He turned his head.

 

Castiel froze even more, if that was possible.

 

Gabriel's distinctive mouth curved into his trickiest Trickster smirk and he winked, mouthing “Hey, bro.”

 

Then Sam's mouth was seeking his and he gave it, hips shifting to accommodate the lazy, rhythmic roll of the human's. He groaned a little into Sam's mouth, around his tongue, his own running out against it.

 

One of Sam's hands ran into the white feathers again, stroking and pulling and the wing twitched, another groan dragged from Gabriel's throat.

 

Castiel felt his own twitch in echo. The itching inside was intensifying. He didn't understand it. He stepped back, and started to turn, but encountered a solid, warm presence behind him.

 

“Shh,” it whispered in his ear, and he would know Dean Winchester's voice anywhere, whispering, screaming, crying, praying, anything.

 

“Dean,” he whispered back, pushing, trying to back Dean away from the kitchen. “Go back to bed.”

 

“Why? What's going on?”  
  
Dean pushed Castiel forwards again to the doorway and leaned in to peer around him.

 

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, and Castiel was surprised neither Sam nor Gabriel seemed to hear. Then again, Sam had his pants off by then, and Gabriel's hand was cupped against his behind, pulling his hips tight against his own so he could grind up against them. “Whoa!” Dean cried again.

 

When Sam ducked his head to watch as he undid Gabriel's pants, the Archangel looked over again and bounced his brows.

 

“ _Whoa_!” for a third time and Castiel suddenly realised;  
  
“Gabriel is damping sound for Sam. He can't hear us.”

 

“What the... why the... how the...” Dean said, every sentence aborted. And he seemed unable to tear himself away as well.

 

Well... at least Castiel wasn't the only one. He answered every aborted question, however;

 

“I believe they are copulating. I should say because they are both aroused and it feels good. But I don't know how Gabriel is here.”

 

Sam had Gabriel's pants off by now and he leaned over the Archangel, pressing his hands to the table beside his head. He slowly rolled his hips, Gabriel's legs coming up and around his hips and thighs.

 

“Sammy...” Gabriel whispered, arching against the hold, wings twitching. “Don't tease me.”

 

“Gabe, Gabe, Gabe,” Sam cooed, dragging his tongue up Gabriel's throat, then back down again to bring his mouth to a nipple. “I know how much you like it when I do.”

 

Castiel sucked in a slight breath as Sam's mouth and tongue worked against Gabriel's chest, making him twist. He was hyperaware of Dean at his back, especially when the man's hand curled over his shoulder, flexing there.

 

“I thought... Angel's... couldn't...” he said haltingly, his breath stirring Castiel's messy hair.

 

“It is not that we can't. We just... don't. Our Vessels still maintain all the sensitivities and reactions peculiar to copulation. But we do not possess the drive or desire. The need.”

 

“Gabe seems pretty needy to me,” Dean said dryly, his hand sliding a little way down and across, close to Castiel's collarbone.

 

“He lived on Earth as a pagan god for a long, long time,” Castiel said, the inside itch almost unbearable. “He learned to have the need. To like it.”

 

“Yeah well. He likes it,” Dean said.  
  
He certainly did seem to. Currently, his head was tipped back against the table, goldenbrown hair fanned out over it as his body arched, Sam's hand hidden by his thigh, but even Castiel could guess what it was doing, especially when Sam said;

 

“See? You love it. It gets you so hard.”

 

“Shut up, mortal. Fuck me.”

 

“When I'm ready,” Sam said, completely in command of the situation, of the Archangel.

 

Castiel swallowed, and realised Dean's fingers were against the shift of his throat, realised the man was pulling him back against his own firm body.

 

“Cas...” he said longingly. “Castiel... could you learn? To have the need? To like it?”

 

Now the itch  _was_ completely unbearable, he couldn't ignore it. He didn't know how to scratch it, but he thought it had something to do with Dean, and he suddenly realised;

 

“I already have it.”

 

Dean sucked in a breath by his ear, his other arm sliding around Castiel's waist.

 

Gabriel jerked.

 

“Stop _teasing_ me, you bastard!” he snarled.

 

“Not for all time,” Sam murmured tenderly, totally incongruous with the rough way he was biting and licking at Gabriel's skin.

 

“Your brother,” Castiel said, and he let Dean take off the heavy trench.

 

“Yeah?” Dean said.

 

“Your brother, he...” the Angel went on, and the shirt followed on, puddling to the floor with the trench.

 

“Yeah, Cas...?” Dean asked again, raking his teeth along the lobe of one ear.

 

“Y-Your brother... he's...” he tried again, and now he let Dean undo his pants.

 

“Spit it out, Cas,” Dean said in exasperation, toeing Castiel's shoes and socks off with dexterous skill.

 

“He's beautiful.”

 

“Whatever you say,” Dean said, and Castiel could hear the eye rolling in his tone.

 

Castiel was about to say more but Dean's fingers curled around him and he forgot how to talk. All that came was a startled little 'Hah' kind of sound.

 

Dean's breath shuddered as it wafted past his ear.

 

“Cas... I've wanted... for so long...” he whispered achingly, his hand shifting experimentally.

 

Castiel would have cursed, if it was in his nature. Suddenly, he wanted more. Wanted skin, and all the heat he knew Dean possessed.

 

Just as suddenly, Dean was naked.

 

“Whoa!” he said, recoiling a little at the instant sensation of being pressed skin-to-skin against Castiel's back. Then he laughed a little. “Yeah, Cas, I'd say you've got it. The need.” He twisted his hand and Castiel pressed back into him again, tipping his head back against Dean's shoulder. The man's other hand slid up his torso, fingers tripping over abs.

 

“Dean...” Castiel said, with more than a little confusion.

 

“Shh...” Dean said. “'S the way it's supposed to feel.”

 

“Samuel Winchester, so help me- Ah!” Gabriel's body bucked again. Sam was leaning with his hands against the edge of the table now, arms and long body stretched out from it so he could wrap his mouth around Gabriel's length. The Archangel's hands were fisted in Sam's hair, and one leg, the one nearest Dean and Castiel, had slipped from the table, so they had a better view.  
  
“Exhibitionist...” Dean said absently, but Castiel barely heard him, hypnotised by the flex of muscle beneath Sam's skin, and the way Gabriel's body twisted and arched. He could feel his own beginning to do the same.

 

“Dean...” Castiel moaned, in the same heartbeat as Gabriel moaned; “Sammy...”

 

“Alright, alright,” Sam said, straightening with a run of his tongue along his upper lip.

 

“Hey, Sammy,” Gabriel purred as he pulled Sam to his mouth by way of his hair. He indulged in a long kiss, then wondered slyly; “Think you can fuck your Angel better than your brother can fuck his?”

 

Dean stilled and Castiel whined.

 

Sam's head snapped around, finally hearing them.

 

“Gabriel!” he cried, eyes wide and staring. “You promised they wouldn't hear!”

 

“Trickster,” Gabriel said by way of explanation.

 

Sam was still staring at his brother and the Angel, his eyes suddenly flicking to where Dean's hand was.  
  
“Whoa!” he said, blushing faintly as he looked back to Gabriel.  
  
Gabriel laughed.  
  
“Get over it, Sammy. They've been watching us almost the whole time.”

 

“ _What_?!” Sam demanded.

 

“You heard,” Gabriel said, winding his legs around Sam's waist and pulling his hips in. Sam huffed out a breath, body twitching. “So, Dean-O, since Sam won't answer... Think you can fuck your Angel better than your brother can fuck his?”

 

_Of all the manipulative..._ Castiel thought, knowing full well how competitive the boys were. But Dean wasn't wise to it, and he fell for it, hook, line and sinker.

 

“I can do anything better than Sammy.”

 

Sam's eyes narrowed.

 

“Dean-” Castiel started.

 

“Shh,” Dean and Gabriel said together.

 

“Bullshit, Dean,” Sam said. “No way.”

 

“Yes way,” the elder Winchester retorted, very mature.

 

“Boys, boys,” Gabriel said, far too at ease with having the Winchesters puppetted on strings he held. “There's one simple way to sort this.” He rotated his hips and Sam groaned. Castiel shivered.

 

“I'm game,” Dean said instantly.

 

_Of course you are,_ Castiel thought resignedly.

 

“Of course you are,” Gabriel said at the same time.

 

“Hey, so am I!” Sam was quick to jump in.  
  
“I'm n-” Castiel started to say but Dean kissed him and he was sure the floor pitched, because he could no longer stand upright. It was heat and it was fire and longing and desperate need and everything Castiel had never considered.

 

He moaned.

 

He wanted.

 

He needed.

 

He stopped thinking he should argue.

 

“Come on, then,” Gabriel said teasingly, spurring Dean into action.

 

He muscled Castiel over to the other side of the table and pressed tight to his back again for a moment, teeth dragging slightly at his ear. Dean's eyes met Sam's, smouldering with age-old sibling rivalry. He pressed a hand between Castiel's shoulderblades and bent him over the table. The Angel's hands came down to support him, his Vessel's instincts guiding them, and he was suddenly eye-to-eye with Gabriel, upside-down.

 

“Well, hey there, little bro,” he purred, sliding his hand into Castiel's mussed hair.

 

Castiel slowly shook his head.

 

“You,” he said lowly, while Sam and Dean fought above them about how they would decide who won. “Orchestrated this entire thing.”

 

“Me?” Gabriel said, pressing his other hand to his own chest. “Would _I_ do that?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel said evenly.

 

“Okay, well maybe. But I was so over you and Dean giving each other smouldering looks and doing nothing about it.”

 

“And this was your answer?”

 

“Well, this way I get to have some fun too.”

 

The argument above them rose and Gabriel dragged his eyes away from Castiel's back up to Sam, then down between the taller Winchester's legs.

 

“Sammy's losing it,” he said, then louder; “Boys!”

 

They both looked down, Dean's hands tightening possessively on Castiel's hips in a way that made the Angel shiver.

 

Gabriel twisted his head so he could see Dean as well, past Castiel's ear.

 

“It's simple. Whoever moans loudest, right?”

 

The Winchester boys stared at the Archangel for a minute, then glanced at each other and said in grim unison; “Right.”

 

“Right,” Gabriel echoed, his fingers still shifting in Castiel's hair.

 

“But...” Dean said slowly. “Cas... Cas's... never done this before...”

 

“Oh, don't worry, Winchester,” Gabriel growled softly, his other hand going into Castiel's hair, his eyes meeting the uncertain blue of his brother's. “He's an Angel. You're not going to hurt him. Especially not with me here.”

 

“Yeah, how _are_ you here?” Dean demanded.

 

“You really wanna talk about that now, cowboy?” Gabriel wondered, pushing Castiel back via the hands in his hair, so that his behind pushed into Dean's hips.

 

Dean grunted.

 

“No,” he said.

 

“Thought so,” Gabriel said, grinning at the blush fanning out over Castiel's cheekbones. “You're blushing, little bro.”

 

“I am not,” Castiel gruffed.

 

“Right, right,” Gabriel said.

 

“Anyway,” Sam said, dragging his hand down Gabriel's torso to his length, which he rubbed at.

 

Gabriel groaned and arched.

 

“Yeah, yeah, Sammy. My attention's all yours,” he said, but his hands still moved in Castiel's hair.

 

“So. The loudest is the winner,” Dean growled.

 

“Done,” Sam said, holding out his free hand.

 

“Done,” Dean echoed and took it, giving a single shake.

 

Gabriel seemed far too amused for Castiel's liking.

 

“Dean,” he started to say. “I don't-”

 

“Shh...” Dean whispered, plastering himself against Castiel's back and dipping his tongue into the Angel's ear. His hips gave a lazy roll and Castiel grunted a little. Dean's hand slid up Castiel's thigh and dipped inwards, wrapping around the Angel's length.

 

Castiel didn't make a sound, but his head dipped, muscle flexing down his spine. His raggedy fringe almost touched Gabriel's throat.

 

Beneath him, the Archangel hissed softly, and he arched slowly, enough that Castiel's fringe did brush his throat.

 

Ever so gently, Sam was working a slicked finger inside Gabriel, tongue against upper teeth in concentration. When Gabriel moaned a little, Castiel lifted his head to try and figure out why. But Dean leaned forwards, one hand turning his jaw into a kiss instead, and he was happy to oblige, trying his best to mimic the actions of Dean's tongue.

 

Gabriel moaned again, though whether because Sam had added a second finger or because of Dean and Castiel's kissing was anyone's guess. The Archangel twisted, the ends of his wings fluttering against the tile floor.

 

“Hurry up, Sammy,” he muttered. “Hurry up.”

 

“So impatient,” Sam murmured. “You know we gotta wait for Cas and Dean anyway.”

 

He tossed the tube to Dean, who caught it despite his distraction with Castiel's mouth. They just worked that well together, and had reflexes that good.

 

When Dean released his mouth, Castiel was panting, and full of what he assumed was need, and everything else that went along with it. He made a tiny little whine.

 

“Aww, baby,” Gabriel crooned. “We're here.”

 

He drew Castiel down, kissing him with an eager tongue.

 

The brothers Winchester both were a little shocked by this, and stared, mesmerised. Until Gabriel ended the kiss and said;

 

“Get on with it, Dean, or I'll null the bet and beg Sam to fuck me witless.”

 

Sam growled and rolled his hips.

 

Dean jerked to life and opened the tube. Soon – though probably not soon enough for Gabriel's liking – he was pressing a careful finger inside of Castiel.

 

“Oh... dear, sweet, merciful...” Castiel said breathlessly, but of course he didn't finish, still not far enough gone to be blasphemous.

 

“Best bit of being human,” Gabriel purred. “Go with it, Cas. Let it happen.”

 

Castiel's lips parted for a soft groan, and Dean was careful, but efficient. Soon there was a second finger and the Angel's hips bucked a little. He couldn't look at Gabriel, but Gabriel barely took his eyes away, despite how Sam was stroking his skin and he kept twitching and arching to the touch.

 

Dean soothed him with low, wordless rumbles in his chest, and the press of his body against the Angel's back. But it was beginning to get a point where Castiel would not be soothed, his Vessel alive with sensation and that ever-present need.

 

“Dean,” he said on an exhale.

 

“Gabriel,” Sam growled in the same moment, because the Angel was running light, teasing fingertips against the skin of his length and had been for some time.

 

“What?” Gabriel said, all innocence. “Gotta keep you ready.”

 

“Trouble stayin' hard there, Sammy?” Dean taunted, right against Castiel's ear and in a liquid growl that made the discomfort between the Angel's legs an almost unbearable ache.

 

“Dean,” he said again, and was aware of the tone of pleading in the word, but unable to fathom what he was asking for.

 

Besides it was completely lost under Sam's indignant; “Fuck you, Dean!”

 

“You better not,” Gabriel said, quick as a whip.

 

“Ugh,” both boys said together.

 

“Good,” Gabriel decided, satisfied by this reaction. He was as aware as anyone of how disturbingly co-dependent the Winchesters were, and it wasn't too far out there to think they might... Not going there. This part of Sam was his, and it always would be.

 

“Dean,” Castiel said in the same tone, but louder. He felt Dean shiver against him.

 

“Cas...” Dean replied in the same manner, then a little hesitantly; “I don't wanna... hurt you.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated breath, disturbing his own and Castiel's fringe.

 

“He's an Angel, Dean. You're not going to hurt him. He-” Gabriel cut off, suddenly arching clear of the table, his hands clawing a little at the air. Sam laughed with deep satisfaction. He had bucked his hips forwards, entering the Archangel. “Holy mother of-” Gabriel started, but Sam pressed deeper and the words degenerated into a growly groan through his teeth.

 

That spurred Dean on more than Gabriel's reassurances. No way was Sam going to beat him. He shifted his weight, adjusted the angle of his hips, and pushed carefully forward.

 

Castiel's lips parted on a shuddering exhale and he unconsciously rubbed the corner of his mouth and his cheek into Gabriel's hairline, though he was hyper-aware of the Archangel's own panting breath against his eyelids.

 

Wait. When had he closed his eyes?

 

He couldn't really spare the time to wonder about it beyond that because Dean was so... And he was  _right_ there. Deep and hot and so, so human.

 

“Dea-ean...” Castiel hitched, and his body rolled a little up towards it when Dean ran his hand gently down the length of his spine.

 

“Stop pussy-footin', Winchester...” Gabriel said, and neither Winchester was really sure which of them he was speaking to.

 

They both responded, however.

 

Sam drew Gabriel's leg over the crook of his arm with an ease that made Dean think they'd done this many, many times. He tilted his head so he could meet Gabriel's eyes past Castiel's head and the Archangel smiled tenderly up him.

 

“Samuel,” Gabriel said, his voice a heated, resonant thing that was completely at odds with the way he usually sounded. “Please.”

 

Sam braced one hand against the table and the other against the boned arch of Gabriel's wing and gave the Archangel what he wanted.

 

Almost immediately, Gabriel was making breathless “ah!” sounds peppered in between drawn out moans of Sam's name.

 

Dean let out a huff of breath and curled his fingers gently about Castiel's hips. Slowly, he rotated his hips, then withdrew and thrust forwards again. Castiel's back arched and he made a low sound from the back of his throat.

 

Echoing Gabriel with some vague thought that it might be a requirement, Castiel said;  
  
“Dean, please.”

 

Requirement or no, it worked. Dean fell into a rhythmic rolling of his hips that was both as familiar to him as breathing and completely beyond anything he'd ever known before, because (Heaven forgive him) he was inside an  _Angel_ . And not just any Angel, but Castiel. Castiel with whom, from the very moment they had met, something intense had formed.

 

Unfortunately, he didn't really have time to wax poetic like that, because, sex being what it was, he just didn't have the space in his brain to allow for deep thinking just now.

 

He bent over Castiel, one hand on the table, the other splayed against the Angel's flexing belly, and found it easy to lose himself.

 

Castiel, for his part, was making low, eager sounds, his entire body shifting and twisting with every thrust of Dean's hips, but nearly every sound he made was drowned out by Gabriel who, while not over the top, was far more vocal than his younger brother.

 

Sam's hand dragged through Gabriel's feathers and the Archangel moaned a throaty; “Yes.” Another came when the hand dragged lower to wrap around his length, stroking in time with the motions of Sam's hips.

 

Dean's thoughts (such as they were) were on the same track. His hand smoothed down from Castiel's belly to his length. His reward was a low; “Ah!” that stirred Gabriel's damp bangs. The younger Angel was clearly unable to do anything other than react, his Vessel in complete control. Dean was thoroughly enjoying it.

 

Especially when Castiel's body jackknifed and he suddenly straightened to kneeling, pressing back against Dean in a full-body arch, with one hand coming into the human's hair. Not needing to hold him up any more, Dean's free hand came to Castiel's throat, his thumb against the Angel's jaw to turn his head so Dean could kiss him, the other still working against his length.

 

“Fuck,” Sam said, his eyes wide and his hips jerking out of their rhythm at the sight.

 

“Sam!” Gabriel wailed, though his own mouth was a little dry over it as well, especially from the angle he was watching it.

 

Sam dragged his eyes away and back down to Gabriel, bending his long body to kiss the Archangel. He renewed his movements, harder and deeper than ever, and Gabriel moaned into his mouth.

 

“Dean,” Castiel whispered. “Dean. What. I. Something's. I,” he went on abortively.

 

Dean chuckled softly, keeping Castiel pressed to him as he worked his own body inside the Angel's.

 

“'S'okay,” he said, interpreting Castiel's words. “Something's s'posed to happen.” He twisted his hand, rubbed his thumb at the tip of the Angel's length and Castiel shuddered, bone-deep.

 

“I c-can't...” Castiel stammered, his hand in Dean's hair working blindly.

 

“Don't,” Dean suggested.

 

And he didn't any more. He didn't fight it. He tipped his head back against Dean's shoulder, baring his throat to the man's willing mouth. His hips bucked into Dean's hand, and a breathless, silent cry left his lips with his release.

 

Dean grunted, his hand stilling, but his hips driving harder yet into the tightening heat. Three more strokes and his own body bucked out of its rhythm, a rough; “Castiel!” escaping him against the Angel's working throat as the pleasure burst inside of him.

 

“They-” Sam said shortly, panting.

 

“Yeah,” Gabriel replied tautly, grasping at Sam's back. “An' I'm...”

 

And he did, his body pressing up against the perfect planes of Sam's torso as he did so. That was it for Sam as well, Gabriel's complete supplication almost better than the physical pleasure of it all.

 

“I love you,” he whispered against Gabriel's ear with his own release.

 

After a few moments of four sets of ragged breathing, Castiel slumped forwards, limbs like jelly and barely able to support him on the table.

 

“I win,” Sam said, right next to Castiel's ear, making him twitch.

 

“What?” Dean growled.

 

“We agreed. The loudest is the winner.”

 

It was only now Dean realised what a stupid measure of success that was, since Castiel was never going to be as vocal as Gabriel in any way shape or form.

 

“That's not f-” he started to say, but Gabriel weighed in.

 

“We did agree, Dean-O.”

 

Castiel could only pant, his head hanging, and he dropped to his elbows, eyelids heavy.

 

Dean's attention was instantly taken.

 

“Forget it. Whatever,” he said, easing out of Castiel and drawing the shorter man up against him. “C'mon, Cas. Let's get you into bed.”

 

He helped the stumbling Angel out and Gabriel laughed saucily.

 

Sam looked down at him.

 

“You're such a manipulative bastard,” he said.

 

Gabriel folded his hands behind his head, looking way too satisfied in way too many ways.

 

“Can you think of any other way they would have resolved all that sexual tension?” he challenged.

 

Sam pondered on this, and finally had to shake his head.

 

“But you could have warned me.”

 

Gabriel sat up, watching with delight the way Sam's face changed a little, lips parting slightly at the echo of pleasure where he was still buried in the Archangel. He wrapped his legs more securely around Sam's long waist, his arms looping around the man's neck. And he loved the way Sam arched his body to accommodate his smaller stature, one big hand coming against the small of his back and the other between his wings to support him.

 

“You're so sexy...” he growled.

 

“Don't change the subject,” Sam laughed against his chestnut hair, close by his temple.

 

“Damn. You know me too well.” Gabriel sighed. “Would you have done it if I'd told you?”

 

Sam wasn't one to shy away from the truth.

 

“No,” he admitted. “No way.”

 

“There. See? And it worked. Besides that... Mm... it was so good.”

 

“Yeah. But you knew the terms weren't fair from the start, too,” he accused. “No way was Cas ever going to be as mouthy as you.”

 

“Trickster,” Gabriel reminded him.

 

Sam chuckled through his nose and tipped his head up to kiss him.

 

When they parted, Gabriel was smirking.

 

“So, big boy. Wanna go again?”

 

“Such a whore,” Sam said, but the next kiss was all hunger.


End file.
